I see you
with sensual sense
like the Na'vi.
Hungry for your love
yet I let your absence starve me.
Living on the spiritual sustenance of memory,
Sliced on loose lips
drunk on truth and Hennesy.

I see you
as I raise a glass to the departed...
to my departure from your life.
How can I tell my lover I'll literally travel oceans to be at her bedside
when I don't acknowledge the native fears that I feel inside?
You see you were my role model with jovial jesting
as the years went by...
and I see this precipice
resting on my own emotional erosion.
Waves of well wishes won't
heal the cancerous corruption of your lifeblood
transporting terror within
the man I cannot live without.
I was your favourite grandson...
your only grandson but
still you were my favourite relative
and I'm killing myself as I talk about you in the past tense...
but you died the day the doctor gave you that death sentence
and I retreated in the last few years
rather than find the courage to face those fears
that arise from the fall of my gracious grandfather.
I love you...
I see you...
but I don't see you.

I don't see you anymore
but I see you as you were
as the sight of you dying
kills me...

... it kills me.